14 September 2023

Remembering that, yea, none of this matters, but you're here, so try to enjoy the ride?

DISCLAIMER: Trigger Warning | Suicide Ideation



Linus finishes his spiel for Rusty, Rusty asks, "You scared?" 

to which Linus responds, "You suicidal?" 

to which Rusty scoff/giggles, "Only in the morning." 


To me, it is because of my deep, deep appreciation for this exchange (and my general lamentations with regards to my wanting it all to end, be over already, etc.) that the bodybuddy/lifemate looked at me recently and said, "I read that children of trauma are oftentimes so low-key suicidal, that they don't even think to mention it to their therapists." 

I was busy at the time of his stating this, randomly, out loud one day, on my computer doing something or other, and since I'm parked at the end of his desk, having cutout a space for myself on his desk, I looked at him, and said, "Yea. I've never even thought to mention it to any of my past therapists." 

And then he sorta shrugged (it's not a shrug; it's a very bodybuddy/lifemate-specific movement that he does with his body wherein others would shrug) and went on with his whatever he was doing before he said what he said out loud.

I've been legally bound to him as his property for some time now, and I've known him even longer. So, generally speaking, when words come out of his mouth, you listen, cause he's a fucking double-air sign.

And then we started talking about how I am, actually, very suicidal in the mornings, no joke. Always have been, and that line, especially coming out of the character Rusty (I don't care much for Brad, generally, but that character, *muah* he played it well) at exactly that moment makes me feel a small kinship with the writer of that interaction. I feel like, yea, the guy who wrote those lines knows. He knows, and then I don't feel so alone in the world. It's also entirely possible that he just thought it'd be a funny line, but whatever, I can believe whatever I want about this cause, at the end of the day, we're talking about a movie. 

I never really knew that other people didn't have just a low-boil swirl in their heads about suicide, ending it all, etc. I had no clue. I thought I was "normal," in this regard, but I am not. 

I also don't feel ill, because my psychological make-up isn't hindering me from living my life, and it's not debilitating. It is there, though, all the time. A slow, dull nagging. 

... nevertheless, "Callin' it quits now, baby, I'm a wreck" ...

This week, we've been monitoring how what we do before I go to bed affects my psychological state when I awake. We've discussed what exactly it is that's happening to me when I wake up, and we've come to the realization that I sleep really deeply, like really super-fucking hard. And so, when I wake, my mind slowly becomes burdened by the weight of me, my life, living, life, in general. 

And for me, it's a lot. 

I'm not entirely sure why my trauma has affected me like this, and I'm sure if I paid a professional to listen to me, we would nail down the specifics more succinctly, but I digress. 

Over the past week or two, my mornings have actually improved, and for me, simply acknowledging my suicidal feelings out loud has really dampened them, given them less power by making them smaller by speaking them aloud, releasing them from the interior space of my mind to be freed and looked at in the real world, and in the real world, my thoughts regarding the taking of my own life, the ending of all this ... is-ness, the wanting of it all to just. be. over. shrinks to a size that looks manageable. It's not scary. I'm not scared; I'm suicidal.

The struggle, for me, is not about whether or not I'm going to kill myself. I will not. I love life. I'm more like the character 22 (I fucking cried my eyes out during that movie, because 22's perspective was so poignant, etc.), not really liking anything specific, feeling a bit lost like I have no purpose, but then the feel of the breeze, the giggles giggled, the fun-ness of life ... I love it. 

But my mind makes up all sorts of reasons why it's all so pointless, and I trudge through my day, making my way through a dark corridor where there is a speck of light that catches my curiosity, and so, really, I am wholly grateful that, at the end of the day, I am a curious person.